


Gloves Off

by plutonianshores



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dream Sequences, M/M, sanity slippage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-12-27 09:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/pseuds/plutonianshores
Summary: Kaz has always loved his brother.





	Gloves Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [M J Holyoke (wholeyolk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholeyolk/gifts).

Kaz’s gloves were off. That was how he knew he was dreaming. He slept with his gloves on, ready for anyone who might turn up in his room while he was sleeping. But here he was with his gloves off and his wrists pinned above his head.

Another sign he was dreaming was that the skin contact didn’t make him sick. Kaz relished the touch for a moment before he opened his eyes, worried doing so would dispel the illusion of human contact.

Instead, Jordie looked back at him. _Dream, dream, dream_, he told himself. But Kaz didn’t want to wake up. He knew, logically, that Jordie had died younger than Kaz was now, but in his dreams, his big brother was still _big_, towering over him and strong enough to protect him.

"Did you miss me?" Jordie asked, grinning.

"More than you know," Kaz whispered. He tilted his head back, and Jordie kissed him, the kind of kiss he hadn’t known to dream about back when Jordie was alive.

Jordie got his hand on Kaz’s prick (no clothes in the way, not in this sort of dream) and Kaz moaned. He kept his eyes open, not wanting to miss a single moment of Jordie’s face.

"What do you want, Kaz?" Jordie’s breath ghosted across Kaz’s lips.

"I want you in my mouth." And Kaz did, more than anything. He wanted to be on his knees with Jordie forcing him down, hands pulling his hair, prick inching all the way down his throat.

"What are you waiting for?" Jordie sat up and slung his legs over the edge of Kaz’s bed, spreading them and raising his eyebrow.

Kaz knelt on the floor, ignoring how cold and hard the wood was against his knees. He wanted this to hurt. The pain cut through the haze of pleasure, made sure he would remember this later.

Jordie was gentle. He was always gentle on these nights, and as much as Kaz wanted to, he couldn’t ask him to be rougher. Maybe it was some sort of fucked-up metaphor, his dead brother giving him the comfort he couldn’t let himself believe he deserved.

Maybe it was just Jordie. He’d always been careful with Kaz.

Jordie slid the head of his prick past Kaz’s parted lips, careful as always. Kaz rolled his eyes and, hands on Jordie’s hips, slid forward until his lips were pressed to the Jordie’s pelvis. Kaz savored the way his brother’s prick nestled deep in his throat.

"Greedy, aren’t you?" But Jordie didn’t pull back. He ruffled Kaz’s hair, giving shallow thrusts as Kaz’s throat clenched around him.

Kaz breathed in through his nose, smelling Jordie. In his dreams, Jordie smelled like the farm – hay and wet dirt and sweat. Kaz felt like home on nights like this, Jordie filling him and protecting him and touching him. Even if they just lay in bed in each other’s arms, the imagined touch sent Kaz’s stomach fluttering and his prick swelling. He hadn't admitted to himself how much he missed human touch until he got a facsimile of it back. He was going to wake up more desperate than ever, but right then, Kaz didn’t care. He let Jordie play with his hair and moved his head back and forth in a mimicry of the fucking Jordie wouldn’t give him.

Kaz kept his hands on Jordie’s legs, but even without touching himself, he knew he would come soon. He could do that, on these nights, without any touch. (Maybe he could do it while awake too; it wasn’t like he would know. Even thinking about blowing someone while he was awake made bile rise in his throat.)

Jordie’s hands tightened in his hair, and Kaz swallowed one last time as Jordie spent down his throat. “Come up here,” Jordie murmured, tugging at Kaz’s hair.

Kaz obeyed, and was rewarded with a kiss. He must have been a mess, spit and come spread over his lips, but Jordie didn’t let up until Kaz had to pull back to breathe.

Jordie cupped Kaz’s prick in his hand. “You’re desperate for it.”

“Always,” Kaz gasped.

“Let me help you with that.” Jordie began to stroke him, too light for it to provide any satisfaction. Then he laid two fingers of his other hand on Kaz’s lips, making an appreciative noise as Kaz sucked them into his mouth.

“Harder,” Kaz begged once Jordie pulled his fingers back.

“Be patient!” But Jordie tightened his grip. “And lay down.”

Kaz rested his head against the foot of the bed and spread his legs, hoping he knew where this would lead. Then Jordie worked his spit-slick fingers into Kaz’s ass, and Kaz moaned.

"You’re so tight," Jordie said, awe in his voice. "Haven’t you done this before?"

"Only with you." Kaz bit back a shout as Jordie thrust his fingers into him and stroked him firmly in unison. "Only ever with you."

Jordie found the spot that made Kaz howl and pressed his fingers just there, again and again with such relentlessness that when Kaz came, it was hard enough to coat him from his navel to his face. Jordie smiled, the same crooked smile that Kaz remembered, and leaned over to press a kiss to Kaz’s stomach. He licked his way up Kaz’s chest through the trails of spend, stopping occasionally to suck at the skin or scrape it with his teeth. When he reached Kaz’s nipple, he stopped to suck fiercely at it, making Kaz moan. It was almost too much, so soon after coming, but Kaz couldn’t bear to ask Jordie to stop. He wanted Jordie to touch him until it hurt and then touch him more. He wanted Jordie to fuck him again and bring him off a second time, then a third, until it hurt to even try for another orgasm.

Instead of asking, Kaz twined his fingers through Jordie’s hair and pulled. Jordie nipped at him, but didn’t stop.

Jordie made his way to the last stray drop of come on Kaz’s chin, then kissed him. "You’re beautiful when you blush."

"Stay the night?" Kaz shouldn’t have asked that. He was terrified to ask anything on these nights, worried he would chase Jordie away.

But Jordie nodded. "Lay down with me."

Kaz nestled against Jordie, back pressed flush to his chest, and Jordie threw his arms over Kaz’s chest, pulling him close. Kaz shut his eyes and breathed deeply, relishing the smell of clean hay that still lingered over the scent of sex.

Before Kaz could fall asleep, the smell of the farm began to run through with something like rot, a hint of mold at the center of a hay bale. Jordie’s arms tightened around Kaz, cutting off his breath, and the smell grew worse and worse until all Kaz could think of was the corpse barge. He looked back at Jordie as best he could, and Jordie’s face was scarred and white and drooping.

"You left me, Kaz," he said, arm strong against Kaz’s throat even as the skin slipped and slid. Kaz didn’t struggle, even as his vision began to go black around the edges.

Kaz woke up dry-retching over the side of his bed, gloves snugly in place and trousers sticky with his own spend. The dreams ended like that more often than not. Sick bastard that he was, he still wanted them.

  


Kaz’s gloves were off. He had been waiting for another night like this, living to sleep when he wasn’t living for revenge. Night after dreamless night had left him even more frustrated than usual. He had tried jacking off, but the leather of his gloves against his skin felt wrong, and even the touch of his own hands on his prick made him nauseous. Then, finally, Jordie came to him.

Jordie was kissing him, pressing Kaz into the bed. He was heavy on Kaz’s chest, all sharp angles. Kaz shut his eyes, letting himself sink into the feeling of Jordie surrounding him.

Kaz bit down on Jordie’s lip, and it turned spongy in his mouth. Jordie began to drip seawater on him, and Kaz knew that if he opened his eyes Jordie would look back with his own eyes clouded by death.

"Do you still love me?" Jordie said, voice warbling like he was underwater.

_I do_, Kaz would have said if he could move his lips. _I do, I do, I do_.

  


Kaz’s gloves were off. He was in the bath, where removing them was a necessity. It was midday, and what sun could make it through the clouds was shining through the window. Also, Jordie was here.

He’d never seen Jordie outside of his bedroom before. Jordie always came at night, when the world was asleep and Kaz was alone. Yet here he was, in the afternoon and in the bath.

"Did you miss me?" Jordie asked.

"Always," Kaz said.

He should have shouted. It didn’t bode well, seeing his dead brother somewhere that couldn’t be a dream. If he shouted, someone would come running, and he would know if his brother had returned from the dead or if he had gone well and truly mad.

And whoever had come would see him panicked in an empty room – an unacceptable sign of weakness. Or perhaps they _would_ see Jordie, and the extra set of eyes would banish him forever – unacceptable in its own way. Kaz didn’t shout.

Jordie splashed him. Kaz sputtered in outrage, and then splashed back. The bath was nowhere near big enough for them to wrestle, but they did anyway, until Kaz got Jordie by the balls and began to fondle him.

The bath wasn’t big enough for fucking, either, but they made do. Kaz settled in Jordie’s lap and grabbed hold of both of their pricks, kissing Jordie as he stroked the both of them. Jordie nipped at his lip and murmured praise.

Later that day, Kaz had to clean the water off the floor.

  


Kaz’s gloves were on. Jordie pulled them off with his teeth, one at a time. Kaz grabbed for Jordie’s shoulders, relishing the warmth of his skin.

"I want to fuck you," Jordie growled, teeth grazing against Kaz’s neck.

He had been gentle, once. Kaz wasn’t sure if he missed that. He hooked his legs around Jordie’s waist and choked back a moan as Jordie entered him. It should have hurt, but it only stung just enough to make the pleasure even more breathtaking. Jordie slammed into him hard enough that Kaz worried he might break the bed.

It was a good night. Jordie stayed living the entire time, past when he spent himself in Kaz and pulled out to watch his spend drip down, past when he stroked Kaz off with a just-this-side-of-painful grasp, past when he pressed one last bruising kiss to Kaz’s lips.

Kaz could almost forget the incongruity of it all.

  


Kaz’s gloves were on. Jordie had his hands around the wrists of them, and Kaz could feel his wet, wet skin slipping a bit even through the leather. Kaz was facedown on his bed, and thank everything holy that he couldn’t see Jordie’s face right now because at least like this he could feel a little less guilty about how turned on he was.

Jordie slammed into him, and it _hurt_ and it was almost enough to bring him off without anything touching his prick, in spite of or maybe because of the pain. Jordie couldn’t talk, letting out guttural and sickly-wet moans. Kaz couldn’t talk either, his face pressed into his pillow.

He should scream. If this was a dream that might wake him up, and if it wasn’t he might need the help.

It had to be a dream. His brother was dead, long since rotted to nothing at the bottom of the sea. But Kaz’s gloves were on.

Maybe it was a dream. If so, did he want to wake up? Kaz wasn’t sure.

Jordie said something that was almost like words. Kaz shut his eyes, tried to listen. The second time, it was clearer: "Do you want to come with me, brother?"

The sick thing was, Kaz wanted to say yes. It would be so easy, to let this thing that was probably his brother smother him with a pillow and carry him away. "I have business to finish," he said instead. He couldn’t go to his grave before Pekka Rollins, no matter what a relief it would be.

Jordie was gone. The absence of his weight bearing down on Kaz felt wrong.

His gloves smelled of decay when he woke up the next morning.

  



End file.
